The Snow Queen
by Little Red Rose on the Valley
Summary: ILITW/? x MC. A reflection on legends of the Pacific Northwest.


There was many a legend that surrounded the evergreen forests of the Pacific Northwest.

Your run-of-the-mill scholar would say that it is expected, for people from faraway lands, many from climates, flora and fauna much different, colonized it. It was an attempt to rationalize the hunger, the disease and the overall difficulties of living on such new lands.

Those who believe, however, who have an emotional connection with the land, would heatedly argue it is nothing of the sort, they _knew_ it was true, they could feel it in the wet earth.

Be as it may, the people had many interesting stories set on the woods, and one of the favourites of yours truly is about a spirit of the snow.

Once upon a time, long enough so no one remembers when anymore, in the village lived a boy and a girl. Neighbours, not that it could be any different, on a place so small, they were also close in age.

As such, they were friends, and they played on the fields and on the forests around the village, as kids would do.

One day, on a particularly snowy winter, they were playing around some stones at a clearing, when one of the kids slip and fell, cracking their head and dying.

The story continues in different paths from now. In good harvests, the most widespread notion is that the girl had been the one to slip and die, and the boy ran, craven, fled running the scene, leaving the body to rot on the snow. The sprites, pitying the loss of a young soul, turned her into a protector of the clearing.

In year of bad harvests, the people say the girl fled the scene instead, and the sprites of the forest saw fit to punish her upon her death, be as she escapes or many years later, at her old age, to remain in the land instead of ascending to the Realm of Heavens.

On good years, the Snow Queen protects them from the wrath of the winter. On bad years, she is the one responsible, wretched as she is, for destroying the farmsteads on the edges of the woods.

One or the other, all agree that the tale continues. You see, the girl had a friend, or a lover, depending on who you ask. The gender is also unclear, if it was a man or a woman. Also, whomever they are, if it was the son of the doctor, a farmhand, the daughter of the constable, or even the boy from the beginning of the tale.

They, whomever they are, missed the girl very much. The now Snow Queen was either a virtuous girl or a shrewd seductress that seduces youngsters into their frosty death on the woods, as you may assume.

At her death anniversary, the Snow Queen was feeling loneliness, having no one to talk but the animals and the trees. She cried and cried from her clearing deep in the woods, and the weep broke the heart of her friend, or lover, or whatever it was.

They followed the sound through the frosty, labyrinthine woods until they finally reached the clearing. There, on the rocks, laid the Snow Queen, always described as a beautiful woman, crying snowflakes.

The person steps closer, trying to make their presence known, but his former acquaintance seemed to be too deep in depression, so they tip-toed around her and hugged her from behind.

They smiled and celebrated the reunion with their beloved friend, or lover. The spirit, for her turn, seemed to rejoice the visitor, but weeps even harder when thinking that they would leave as soon as the cold and hunger grew on their feeble, human body.

They assured it not to be the case, and so the Snow Queen offered them a test on their devotion. As soon as the sun raises, they would leave through the path they arrived, picking the first branch of mistletoe they encountered on their way.

They were to keep the branch on their person for a fortnight, until the Winter Solstice, when, as soon as the sun sets, they were to make their way again to the clearing and offer her the plant.

The challenge was accepted, they were sure of their love and devotion, they were willing to do what it took to be with the fair Queen for time and time to come.

As the longest night of the year begun, they made their way through the forest with the mistletoe branch firmly held on their hand. If the Snow Queen made them their consort or if she feasted on their bones, I do not know, but the fact is, or as much as we can consider as 'fact' information derived from an obscure fairy tale, they were never seen again.

If one happens to pass by northeastern Oregon around Christmastime, I urge to take a walk through the woods. It is a most invigorating activity. It might even be a lucky enough of a day to take a sight of the beautiful Snow Queen, strolling through her realm.


End file.
